Death of Vechkov Prague
Vechkov is at the bottom of the ramp from the Katrina's Pride, on Tomin Kora, bleeding badly from the gut, pale and wasting away, an electronic device in his other hand. Newt looks over at it and well there ya go. Green guy. He goes away from Vechkov and heads for Jaxx with legs in running mode. Valis is hunched over Vechkov, trying to get the device from his hand. A recently used syringe lies next to the two. Vechkov seems to be fading, and his clutch on the device weakens. It drops to the tarmac with a smack. Vechkov drops Holodisplay. Jaxx clanks down the gangplank of the Pride. Spying Vech, his nose wrinkles, mouth pursing into a frown. A hand dips into a zippered side-pocket, re-emerging with a sleek, nasty looking blaster. Not pointing it at anyone in particular, he advances towards the fallen Investigator. Vechkov mutters, weakly, "Cig..." Valis winces. "You better not have broke that." He goes to pick up the device again. Newt stops, upon seeing the blaster. You know. That doesn't look friendly. "Uhhhhh..." He decides to go back to where he came from, "Doc!" Newt needs to learn to use commas more effectivly too. Vechkov coughs weakly. Vechkov rasps, "Jaxx..." Jaxx levels the blaster at the doctor with a casual air. "I'll take that, I think." He gestures with his empty hand towards the holodisplay. Valis looks annoyed at Jaxx before sliding the holodisplay to him. He continues using a small humming device over Vechkov. Newt looks back at Jaxx and seems to remember Jaxx being a bit more polite. He looks at the red guy and then back at the green guys. Jaxx bends, retrieving the holodisplay. He tucks it into the same pocket from which he drew the blaster, seemingly not inclined to put the latter thing away. He takes a few steps closer. "Now...Give the man a cigarette. He'll fade faster if you don't." Jaxx takes Holodisplay. Valis looks at Jaxx, "I dont' have a bloody cigarette." Vechkov gestures weakly at one of his pockets, then, painfully, reaches into it and tugs out a crumpled wrapper and a scuffed silver lighter. Valis rips out the crumpled wrapper, and lights the cigarette. He puts the latter to Vechkov's mouth. Vechkov lifts his double chin, drags on the cigarette, then coughs around it. Vechkov smears the lighter with blood, looks at it for a moment, then back up at Jaxx, weakly. "Thanks." Jaxx's aim dips slightly as the cigarette reaches Vech's mouth. "You look worse than your ship. I figured you could use it. Bishop?" Vechkov doesn't bother speaking. It takes effort enough to nod. Valis glares slightly up at Jaxx. He isn't too pleased at having a blaster leveled at him. Newt stays perfectly quiet. He seems to be fairly comfortable with not having the blaster leveled at him. Even still. He thinks he'll just hang and observe for now. Valis growls at Jaxx, "Put that bloody thing away. If I wanted to hurt him or take his holo device I would've done it before you bloody got here." Vechkov drops his chin, and the cigarette falls from his mouth and onto the tarmac. The red tip smolders and then darkens. A trail of wispy blue smoke rises from the fallen cigarette. Valis curses under his breath. He takes Vechkov's pulse. Jaxx waves the blaster demonstratively. "I'm not intending to stop you. Fix him. This is Freewheeling, and you had your hands on this..." He taps the pocket into which the holodisplay disappeared with his free hand. "So the 'thing', I think, stays, for the moment." As Vechkov's head slumps, he winces slightly, and says, under his breath, something that carries with it the impression of gargled glass, "T'faa'kkrrr." 1 Category:Classic Underworld logs